Angelus Mortis
by EMMFanfiction
Summary: "The adrenaline pumping through your blood as all thoughts drift towards terror in your last few moments, the flash of light right before everything fades to black, and your few thoughts are scattered...Death is something I know quite well" A girl from the suburban homes of western Ohio discovers something about herself when her parents throw her out- she can't die.


Death is **always** a horrendous experience. The adrenaline pumping through your **blood** as all thoughts drift towards **terror** in your last few moments, the flash of light right before everything fades to **black** , and your few thoughts are scattered. Death is something that I know very well, having experienced it a few times in my life. I was 9 when they realized what was wrong with me, how I wasn't just a normal girl with imaginary friends, but a psychopath with voices floating around in her head. I think that my parents were scared of me after that, thinking that I'd randomly try to kill them at some point.

They let me do anything I wanted, no matter the consequences. I wanted to skip school. Fine. I wanted to try alcohol. Great. I wanted to flunk out of Biology. Lovely. As long as I didn't touch their money or disrupt their time, I could be out committing mass murder, and they'll still be sitting on a couch drinking tea and talking about the stocks. My father was a narcissistic bastard, who thought that the very idea of a connected family was a joke. He was a famous doctor who traveled around the world, dragging my mother and I with him. I don't think that my father was ever a faithful man, constantly sneaking out of the house when I was just a child no taller than three feet, and still randomly leaving the apartments we stay at with no explanation. My mother put all her pain and frustration into her work and her number one hobby, drinking. She was an interior decorator and practically had her fingers glued to her laptop and bottles of whiskey. She would have a glass with her wherever we went, whether it be to a meeting or a movie. My mother never hit me, neither did my father, but they sure as hell seemed like they wanted to. Constantly yelling at me about how I'm not good enough, will never be good enough, couldn't be good enough.

In all honesty I did think about strangling them while they're asleep. Grabbing the rope from underneath the kitchen sink and tying it around their pale, skinny little necks and wringing, but I could never bring myself to agree with the voices. I mean they might be horrid people, but my dad still saved people's lives. My mother still brought people joy with her amazing decorating techniques. And, they still paid the checks that kept my Netflix account alive and open.

My head sounds similar to two people constantly bickering. Emmie (being the other voice in my head) and I had a love-hate relationship. She was me, so it's not like I can completely hate her, but she was very stuck up. Anything to do with money or my looks, and we disagreed. She said that I deserved the money, and anything it could buy. She also thought that I had model worthy features. So, obviously, she's a liar. I believed I deserved a house, a fridge with food, and the nessacaraties. Nothing more, nothing less. I mean I look fine, I think. Brown hair that had natural golden highlights weaved in, azure eyes with long eyelashes, deep and bold eyebrows that looked out of place with my smaller features, and pale lips. The skin above my shoulders was unmarked by scars, and practically spotless. My arms were covered in cut marks, scratches, and bruises from my many accidents. Three car accidents (receiving end), two trampoline incidents, and the many failed attempts at using my powers. Right… powers.

When I was 11 I learned of my ability to move water with my mind, and make things out of it. At the age of 12 I inhabited the ability to conduct lightning. Many a time I had zapped myself out of curiosity, and the majority of my experiments ended in a rather large amount of bruises and pain. For a rather large amount of time I had believed in the Greek gods and goddesses, being rather speculative about the Roman's beliefs. My set of powers matched those of Poseidon and Zeus, individually. My powers… the reason as to why I'm in the incredibly embarrassing- before death- moment ever. Stuck in a bathtub with a wall of electrical energy separating me from the vanity. I had given up pounding on the glass slide door long ago, and was carefully mending my bruised hands when I heard the sound of glass shattering.


End file.
